by M. Leighton
Turning toward me, Grayson surprised me when he asked first, “Are you alright?”
I was taken off guard. “I’m, uh, I’m- yeah, I’m ok. It’s just that it was so real. It was like I was right there and I could feel everything that the killer felt.” I could feel my blood pressure rise and my breathing quicken as panic closed in around me. “It’s like looking out and watching my own hands do these horrible things and- and I don’t know how, but it’s as if I like it.” I looked at Grayson and I knew from the sting that tears were filling my eyes. “How is it possible to see something that awful and like it? What’s wrong with me?”
Then, after I’d spilled my guts, I fell to pieces. I put my hands over my face and I burst into tears. I think I was more afraid and shaken than anything else. Thought it’s shameful to admit, the thing that bothered me most about the whole thing was the pleasure that I felt. It brought with it guilt and worry and a dark itchy place in my soul that was getting bigger by the day. And I didn’t know what to do, how to stop it or what it meant. I just knew that it wasn’t good. It couldn’t be.
Grayson reached out and pulled my head over onto his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against the top of my head and I could feel his breath ruffling my hair as he whispered, “Shh. It’s over. Shh. It’ll be alright. Shh.”
Though I barely knew him, I realized that I immediately felt comforted. I felt like by telling him, it would be alright, like he’d take care of everything. In a strange way, I felt like he could even fix me.
When my sobs had dwindled to sniffles, I pulled back a few inches. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the dim light from the dashboard, Grayson’s eyes looked black and they sparkled like onyx. He raised his hand and wiped a tear from my right cheek with his thumb.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he said softly. When his eyes dropped to my mouth, I felt my lips quiver in anticipation. I held my breath and waited.
To me, it happened in slow motion. Grayson’s eyes flickered back up to mine for a fraction of a second, as if to gauge my response, and then they returned to my mouth. When his face edged toward mine, I let my eyelids fall closed. I could feel the heat radiating from him and it made my stomach twitch anxiously.
His lips barely touched mine before he pulled away. Like the brush of a butterfly’s wings, it was there and then it was gone. I started to open my eyes when I felt his lips on mine again, only this time there was passion.
The hand that had rested on my cheek slid into my hair, sending a shower of cold chills down my arms. When his lips opened, mine did, too. His tongue slipped between my teeth and I could taste a hint of sweet cinnamon. I thought of the jar of Fireballs I’d seen on his desk.
He turned his head to the side and further deepened the kiss. I raised my hands to his chest. I could feel the muscles bunching under the soft cotton of his shirt. I felt as much as heard his groan. It vibrated across my lips and sent a zing of electricity straight to my core.
When he pulled away, I waited for a second then opened my eyes. His face was still so close our lips were almost touching. He was staring at me, his eyes piercing my very soul, and in their dark, liquid depths, I could see a hunger that mirrored my own.
“Well, that wasn’t very professional of me, now was it?”
The light comment was so out of character for him, I couldn’t help but laugh. When I did, he smiled. And it took my breath away.
I hadn’t seen him smile. Not really anyway. That polite, toothless twitch of the lips that cops do when they’re trying to get rid of you doesn’t count. This was a real smile. It softened his handsome face and gave him a devilish look that I found absolutely mesmerizing.
“Hey, I’m the one who called you out in the middle of the night. You’re excused.”
His expression sobered. “I really shouldn’t have done that. You could be important to my investigation. If someone found out, it could compromise the whole case.”
“Then I guess we’d better make sure no one finds out.”
He grinned, but I could tell he was already having regrets so I changed the subject.
“So are you going to ask me about my dream?”
He leaned back in his seat and easily obliged me. “So, tell me about your dream.”
And I did. I gave him every detail I could remember about the hotel, the girl and the crime itself. And though talking about it made me uncomfortable, it didn’t upset me like it had earlier. I felt like as long as Grayson was around, the world was alright and so was I.
“I’m going to head to the station to do a little research and see what I can find out. I should be able to find that hotel based on the letters you saw,” he said, starting the engine. “I’ll drop you back at your house. Maybe you’ll be able to get some sleep. I’ll wait and call you later today, let you know what I find out.”
I nodded, not wanting the night to end even though the circumstances left a lot to be desired.
When Grayson neared my house, he stopped. “I’ll let you out here so that we don’t wake your parents.”
“Ok,” I said, reaching for the door handle.
“Mercy.” When he spoke, I turned to look at him. I watched him hesitate, the battle that warred within him almost a tangible thing, and then he finally leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. Before he moved away, he breathed against my mouth, “Shh.”
I knew what he meant. We couldn’t tell anybody about our kiss. I smiled and got out, closing the door quietly behind me. He waited until I had slipped inside my house before he slowly pulled away. I watched him drive past the house and then, when he was far enough away, accelerate to zoom off down the street.
I crept silently back to my room and collapsed on my bed. I think I was still smiling when I fell asleep.
********
Despite my dreams and crazy life, my mood was light the next day. I walked happily to school and smiled all the way through my first class. When it ended, rather than going early to my next class (like the antisocial nerd that I am), I decided to go for a cappuccino instead.
Ruger’s was packed with people. As I waited in line to get my drink, I looked around for an empty seat. The only ones I saw were at tables where a group was already sitting. Luckily it was a beautiful day and I could just take my coffee outside and sit on one of the benches.
In front of me, there was a plain girl with a thick tawny braid hanging down her back. She was punching a text into her phone, smiling at whatever she’d just read. She looked happy enough. I felt like my good mood was touching everyone around me. It was all rainbows and roses.
I heard voices behind me and turned to see the three sorority-type girls from my Biochemistry class stopping behind me in line. Quickly, I turned back to face forward.
“I don’t know what she ate, but I’m glad I wasn’t right there when she did it. Tasha said it was seriously nasty and I have a weak stomach.” I think the girl that was speaking was named Zoe. I was pretty sure I’d heard Trinity call her Zoe and the other girl Char. I guess that was short for Charlene or something like that.
“It totally was. I was in the living room watching that whore drape herself all over Matt when Jake came out of the bathroom. Trust me, it was vile.”
I recognized the second voice as Trinity’s. It wasn’t hard to hear what they were saying anyway, what with my close proximity and all, but when I heard the name Matt, my ears perked up considerably, wondering if they were talking about Matt Hastings.
“Yeah, I saw that, too. Who was that skank he was with? She looked like trailer trash,” Char said.
“She really did. I overheard Chase and Rudy talking about her. Apparently she’s originally from Arville, too, and she dated Matt in high school. I don’t know why guys always like the slutty girls. And a nose ring! Come on, who does that anymore?”
They were talking about Billie! They had to be. And she was none of the awful things they were calling her. Though I really didn’t want to hear
any more, I listened on. And the longer I listened to them defame her, the wilder my temper raged. Their vicious, jealous slander burned like acid in my veins and my head throbbed in anger.
As they continued to tear Billie down, I began to imagine what would happen if people all around started turning on them, an angry mob literally ripping them to shreds like they were doing to Billie with their sharp, wicked tongues.
I was lost in a violent storm of dark thoughts, picturing mean and horrible things, when the girl in front of me with the braid turned with the steaming cup of coffee she’d just been handed and threw the hot brew in Trinity’s face.
“Shut your filthy, lying mouth!” the girl screamed.
Trinity howled in pain and started bouncing up and down, running in place, shaking her hands and her head. Her face was angry red and she acted like she wanted to wipe at it, but it was too painful to touch.
Everyone stopped and stared, stunned into silent immobility for what seemed like several minutes until chaos broke out. Trinity’s friend Char snarled, her top lip curling in fury, and stepped past me, landing a slap across the right cheek of the girl who’d thrown the coffee. The blow cracked like thunder and echoed through the unnaturally silent room.
Without hesitating, the girl who’d thrown the coffee swung her backpack up from the ground and hit Char right in the middle of the face with it, knocking her back into Trinity. Then she turned her attention to Zoe, Trinity’s other friend.
With a growl that barely sounded human, the girl flung herself at Zoe and started pulling her hair and biting at her face. When she found something to really sink her teeth into (Zoe’s cheek), she bit down hard and refused to let go.
I saw blood oozing out from around her mouth and Zoe started screaming and pushing at the girl’s face, trying to dislodge her teeth. When the girl finally let go, Zoe put a hand up to her face. When she pulled it away, there was blood all over her fingers. Her eyes rounded in alarm and then she promptly fainted, landing right on top of Char where she was crumpled at Trinity’s feet.
“You are all vicious, vapid, elitist vipers and I’m sick of hearing your mouth! I wish Jake would’ve killed every one of you instead of just stopping with Lisa. You make me sick! Sick, sick, sick!” she wailed vehemently. As she leaned in closer and closer to Trinity, Trinity edged her way backward, fear etching every line of her puffy red face.
Just then, two campus security officers and one of the campus nurses arrived. As the security officers separated Trinity and the coffee slinger, the nurse bent to tend to the two unconscious girls.
In short order, the nurse had Zoe and Char up and heading to one security vehicle parked outside, while the two security officers rode with Trinity and her assailant.
Slowly, activity began to resume inside Ruger’s. Everyone was talking about what had just happened. They murmured and whispered. Some even snickered. I assumed they were ones that had issues with Trinity and her friends, too.
Though I didn’t approve of the kinds of things that the troublesome trio was saying, I would never condone such violence against them. The way they acted and the things they said made me sick, too, but I’d never—
I stopped mid-thought when something occurred to me. What if I’d caused the attack?
I felt the blood rush from my face and, with it, my equilibrium. The room started to spin and sway and I felt unsteady on my feet. I reached out to grab the counter and I leaned heavily on it, closing my eyes until I felt the room slowly return to rights.
“Sit down and put your head between your legs,” someone was saying from beside me.
I opened my eyes a crack to see the concerned face of one of the baristas as she eyed me from across the counter. “It’s ok. I’m feeling better. Just got a little lightheaded, that’s all.” I tried to smile, but I got the feeling that I failed miserably. The girl’s frown just seemed to deepen.
“I would’ve, too, if I thought I was about to be attacked. You’re lucky she didn’t turn on you.”
Guilt rose inside me. Yeah, right. Lucky. I just smiled, pushed myself away from the counter and slowly made my way from Ruger’s out into the sunshine and fresh air so I could breathe.
I plopped down on one of the benches and took several slow, deep breaths. My inordinate anger was just now tailing off, replaced by mounting guilt over what could conceivably have been my fault.
As I thought back to what happened, it seemed that the girl had taken the fury right out of my head, as well as some of the things she did and said. I was actually thinking about flinging a cup of hot coffee in Trinity’s face, imagining how satisfying it would be to see the shocked look on her face. And I even thought the word “sick”, just like the girl had said over and over again.
Could my internal musings have somehow infected that girl? Now that I thought about it, about how happy she’d seemed only moments before, it seemed as though she’d almost been poisoned. And the venomous rage inside me had been the toxin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I was on my way home from school, moping about what had happened, when I heard my cell phone ringing from inside my messenger bag. I fished it out and the display declared that it was Detective Grayson.
My belly did a little flip despite my inner turmoil. I schooled my voice to a cool, casual tone when I answered.
“Hello?”
“Mercy?” I must’ve schooled it so much it didn’t even sound like me.
“Det- Grayson,” I said with a smile, catching myself before I finished the word.
“Hi,” he greeted softly, his tone completely changing.
Last night’s kisses were all wrapped up, warm and sweet, in that one word. I could feel it almost as much as I could hear it. It quivered like a tiny flame flickering to life in my chest.
“Hi,” I returned, feeling like a giddy kindergartner.
“Were you able to go back to sleep?”
“Actually I was. Slept like a baby.” I left him to unravel the reason why. “I bet you’re tired, though. How’d it go?”
He sighed, confirming that he was, indeed, very tired. “Well, you were right. I searched the internet for local hotels and motels with those letters in the names. Only three hits. It turned out to be the second one I visited, the Harbor Hotel.
“Obviously I couldn’t get a search warrant on the word of a psychic, but I had the night clerk call the owner and he was more than happy to let me knock on each door. She was in room 209.”
“Then what?”
“I called the crime in to dispatch and we’ve been working the scene all day.”
“We?”
He sighed again. “Yeah. DeCarlo’s homicide team showed up earlier. I’m still working that out with the captain.”
“Who’s DeCarlo?”
“He’s the homicide team leader.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that.”
“I’m not. This is my case. He thinks just because this one turned out to be a serial, he can jump in and take it. But not on my watch,” he growled angrily.
“Is the captain going to let you keep working it?” I didn’t want to examine or admit the alarm that the notion of him being off the case incited in me.
“I think so.”
“What’s DeCarlo’s problem anyway?”
“Ah, he thinks I’m too young and that the only reason I got this job is because of who my father was,” he sneered bitterly.
“Too young? How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Why would he say that about your father? Who was he?”
“He was a cop, too. He and Mayor Epps were partners back in the day. My father was killed by a shot that was meant for Epps. So, as a favor to my father, Epps made sure DeCarlo couldn’t pull any strings to keep me off the homicide team when I came up through the ranks. He said as long as I proved that I could be an asset to the team, he had no problem with my age.”
I thought about the man that had “given” my case to Grayson the day I’d
gone to the station.
“Is DeCarlo the tall one that was there the day I came to the station? The one that was holding down the coffee pot with the other two guys?”
“Yep. That’s the one.” As I thought about him, I remembered DeCarlo laughing and snickering with the Disher and the other two. Then pieces started to fall into place. “He gave my case to you as like a joke or a prank, didn’t he? He thought you’d end up having to babysit some crackpot, huh?”
Grayson’s silence was all the confirmation that I needed.